Dog Daydreams
by Nightsmoke
Summary: Originally a single-chapter story, but now a series of fluff-chronicles, so to speak. Funny. Suggestions are welcome!
1. Dog Daydreams

_Summary:_ A sixteen year old Integra Hellsing outside on a warm, spring day--but she's not alone.

_A/N:_ I won't be able to write much fan-fiction for a little bit, so I thought I'd get one more Hellsing one in. This story actually started out as a drawing, and I thought I'd put words to it. They say a picture is worth a thousand words (well 1,903 looking at the word count).

**All characters © Hirano Kouta**

* * *

**Dog Daydreams**

_"Come pooch, sit, stay._

_Come join me where I lay."_

_-_

The April sky, light and clear, stretched across the English land as the ubiquitous scents of spring lingered in the air. The halcyon cries of birds far away were an entire symphony of their own to the ears, the gentle rustle and swish of falling seeds from tall trees, the patter of furry gray squirrels scampering expertly over thin branches, every sound was precious. The small breeze itself seemed so much like a human voice whistling a lasting melody.

Glad to have finally extracted herself from her dingy quarters, a sixteen-year old Integra Hellsing lay on her stomach in the large backyard of the Hellsing Estate. Normally it would be atypical of the young heir to be caught dead actually relaxing, but these were atypical circumstances. Well not exactly atypical or infrequent…this particular change in her character could be seen every twenty-eight days, to be exact.

The rich and brilliant sunlight poked tentatively through the trees, creating little patterns of light on the lush grassy floor. Integra closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose, glad to breathe in the sweet coolness of springtime air. The freshness also helped temporarily relieve the steady throbbing pain in her nether regions.

In an attempt to make herself as comfortable as possible, Integra had abandoned her traditional skirt and button-down shirt, replacing her formal attire with a sleeveless shirt and shorts. Normally she would be appalled at how scantly clad the outfit was (in her opinion), but soon decided that she no longer cared.

Integra let her dark blonde hair, already waist-length at sixteen, flare out underneath her like a blanket as she laid on top of it. She tilted her face up towards the sky and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the sluggish pulse of her throbbing temples beating a dull tattoo on the inside of her forehead.

It was so peaceful…

Integra remained like that for some time.

Suddenly something rough and wet slid up her cheek. Integra's eyes snapped open and she jolted up into a sitting position, seething.

"_Alucard!" _

Integra scrubbed the palm of her hand against her cheek to rid it of cold, slimy drool. "What are you doing out here?" She asked the creature before her, fairly annoyed.

A passerby of the estate, if they happened to so pass by at that very moment would have found it strange to see a teenage girl talking to a large black dog. Or perhaps they would have found the fact stranger that the dog in question had eight eyes.

The dog simply wagged his tail and uttered a low grumble in satisfaction at Integra's query, its unnaturally long tongue lolling out pleasantly.

Although Integra was never really a cat person to begin with, she resisted the urge to pet _this_ particular hound. Some childish instinct lurking deep inside her wanted to see if this dog's black fur felt as smooth and silky as it looked, but Integra dolefully reminded herself that this was a 500 year old vampire in a Dogsbody. Not your average pooch.

"It's rare for you to be up in the middle of the day, Alucard," Integra said, recovering slightly from her irritation due to impending curiosity, "Let alone outside. I would have thought that spring would be the worst time for vampires."

As if to justify that statement the hound lowered its muzzle to the ground and promptly sneezed three times.

"Aw, does the puppy have an itchy nose?" she asked Alucard amusedly and somewhat sarcastically. The sarcasm was in part due to her discomfort. The Alucard-dog gave another sneeze and looked up at Integra, glad to be rid of that nuisance.

"But seriously though. Do you need anything?"

Integra groaned as the hound rolled over onto its back and kicked up its hindquarters in an almost human fashion. She could have sworn that the dog was grinning. Even though Alucard was more than thirty times older than her, the Hellsing heir wondered who the mature one really was. Sometimes the vampire acted like so much like a child it made one want to cry.

"I really don't need this today, servant," Integra sighed, squeezing her temples around the glasses that framed her face. "Why don't you go back to your coffin, where you belong?" God, she was so tired.

The dog blinked all eight of its eyes in unison and gave a pitiful whine. "Oh please," Integra snapped. A rather painful spasm racking through her lower abdomen then made her bite down on her full lower lip. The teenager fought to regain control of her senses. She would rather die than show weakness to Alucard…especially this kind of mishap.

"Leave. Now. I order you to," She commanded Alucard in a tone that an irascible pet owner would use with a particularly ill-behaved dog. The hellhound cocked his black head and blinked its four sets of bright vermillion eyes, but made no move to leave.

Another sickly wave of ache almost made Integra double over. _"Go!"_ She snapped, ice blue eyes sparking dangerously. Alucard flinched at her volume and rose, his bushy tail in between his legs. He gave a low howl and loped quietly away, paws padding soundlessly on the flourishing green lawn.

With a heavy exhale that was half sighing-half groaning, Integra curled up on the grass into a semi-fetal position. She knew she should feel guilty for sending the vampire who had rescued her four years ago away with such open disrespect, but at the moment the young Hellsing was too pained to care. She pinched her eyes shut behind glass lenses. Since when had her 'time' been so painful? It was most likely due to overstressing.

Integra became aware of something then…her first thought was that it was godly soft. The second thought was that it was right beside her.

For the second time that day Integra's eyes flashed open in alarm. Wait, something was wrong…when she opened her eyes she saw nothing but black. She tried closing her eyes and reopening them, but the results were the same, her mind in too much pain to register yet what was going on.

…Oh.

A large black dog was snuggled up against her. Its ink-black fur was more silken and smooth than she had imagined. Although it registered no body heat at all, the hellhound's fur and closeness felt amazing. Almost like a blanket.

"Alucard…what the bloody hell are you doing?" Integra murmured lazily, too tired to be truly angry.

The only response she received was a throaty rumble from the dog. He affectionately burrowed his snout into Integra's belly, making her curl up and instinctively let out a tickled laugh. That made the teenager forget all about her pain, and for a moment there she didn't even feel any discomfort.

The hound nuzzled her some more and occasionally scrubbed his wet, cold tongue over her arms, bringing an aberrant and uncharacteristic smile to the young Hellsing's lips. Out of childish impulse and oversensitive hormones, Integra buried her skin deeper into the cool dog's fur, relishing the glossy feel and softness. When was the last time she had hugged something, or had received any physical contact, for that matter? Integra had forgotten what it felt like to hold someone close, or the other way around.

It felt nice.

And that was how Integra Hellsing fell asleep; holding a black dog close, nestled in weaves of ebony fur and emerald grass from the Hellsing lawn. She did not even realize that she had fallen asleep until she awoke to find herself in her own quarters later that evening.

-- -- --

Nighttime had fallen, and the darkness was calming to her eyes. Sliding on her glasses and walking lightly down the hall she made her way to the downstairs pantry to retrieve a glass of water. Once there she poured herself a cup and closed her eyes as the cool liquid trickled down her parched throat. She felt immensely better than she had that afternoon—

Wait, what of this afternoon?

"You don't even to become a vampire," a low and soothing voice said from the shadows behind her. "Your sleeping habits are already genuine nosferatu."

A normal teenage girl would have jumped three feet out of her clothes, but Integra had become accustomed to the vampire's spontaneous appearings.

"Alucard," she addressed him, now back in his human form. Well if you could call it human.

It was then that Integra realized she didn't know what to say next. Had this afternoon been real, or some ridiculously vivid dream brought on by her monthly malfunctioning of hormones? She couldn't remember, which frustrated her.

"Did you sleep well, young Master?" Alucard asked. He had disposed of his orange-tinted sunglasses and vermillion fedora for the evening, his reddish eyes glowing slightly in the darkness like an owl's.

"As a matter of fact, no," Integra grumbled as she downed what was left of her water glass. Alucard would become mortal before she would tell him any more, so she simply added "strange dreams" before the bothersome vampire could inquire further. Unfortunately he probably would ask anyway.  
He raised an eyebrow, invisible in the dark. "I see. Care to share, Master?"

"N-not a chance, servant!" Integra huffed, her temper flaring. She grabbed her glass and viciously dropped it into the kitchen's sink, ignoring the deep chuckles coming from the vampire. Luckily the dark concealed the flush that had slowly spread across her cheeks. Integra cursed her hypersensitive hormones.

"That bad, huh? You humans and your dreams."

Integra growled something almost incoherent it was so low, but not to Alucard's vampiric ears. He wondered if she had picked up such colorful language from her father. "Are you always so irritable, young Master? I did not realize that dreaming was such a touchy subject." He paused, allowing a pointed caning to slide over his bottom lip as he grinned.

"If I didn't know any better I would say that you were dreaming about me."

He was baiting her. Integra's frosty blue eyes widened behind their spectacles.

"Alucard," she began, her voice leveled dangerously. "If you continue to spout such foolishness I will reach into your coat pocket and shoot you with your own gun."

Alucard's grin widened, stretching up to his ears. "My apologies, Master." He bowed gracefully, his jet-black hair falling in a shroud around his ears. "I bid you good night."

Young Integra gave a curt nod and exited the kitchen, her long flaxen hair billowing out behind her. Alucard listened as the sound of his master's footsteps ebbed away and the vampire smoothed his hair back with a white-gloved hand, still standing in the pantry. He suddenly gave a smile, one almost never seen by others. This smile was softer, warmer (as warm as Alucard could get, anyway), differing vastly from his typical bloodthirsty leer.

When was the last time he had cuddled with something living and warm? Alucard had forgotten what it was like to lie alongside another being.

It felt nice.

Asleep in her large quilted bed, hair flayed around her like a light fan, Integra Hellsing smiled softly.

-- -- --

I realize how many Hellsing fics are out there where Integra is suffering from menstruation (give her a break guys!). I just needed to give her a reason to be more touchy than usual, sorry-- I know this is a huge Hellsing cliche. Reviews would be much appreciated!


	2. Brown Paint

_Dog Daydreams_

_Summary:_ Pip Bernadette has a rare moment of klutziness, but luckily Seras is around to help him clean up the mess he's made. Cuteness ahead.

_A/N:_ This was hard to do, I still haven't gotten Pip and Seras's characters down pat yet. Did I get Pip's accent alright? I haven't watched the English OVA but I know that he does have a slight French accent. They may seem a little childish here, but I am feeling silly today so blame the author (Merde fuck, shit, at the beginning). I'm not particularly satisfied with how this came out, but suggestions and reviews would be appreciated greatly. Thanks for reading!

**All characters © Hirano Kouta**

* * *

**II.**

**Brown Paint**

-

Thud. **CRASH.**

If Seras Victoria had a heart, it would have jumped straight out through her throat at the earsplitting noise, the sound augmented by her enhanced vampiric ears. She almost dropped the Harkonnen on her foot in the midst of cleaning it, but managed to catch the elongated barrel before it made contact. The young Draculina had been on her way to the training barracks to pick up some spare cartridges for her gun before she had been scared shitless by the cacophonous crash that had emerged from the target room.

"_MERDE!"_

_That sounds like Captain Bernadette, _Seras mused. She started walking towards the target room with a quickened pace, short blonde hair flapping out behind her. The Harkonnen she placed in the nearest artillery cabinet for later use. Once she reached the room she peered in with wide cerulean eyes.

"Umm, Mr. Bernadette? Captain? Are you alright?" Seras blinked at the spectacle before her. The captain of the Wild Geese, dressed in casual jeans and a SoCo's shirt, was rubbing his leg and mumbling curses under his breath in a variety of different languages. Seras noted the fallen targets, some broken, and thick colorful puddles of spilt brown paint. She began to formulate a pretty good idea of what had happened.

Upon her entrance Pip looked up and a tinge of rosiness immediately bloomed on his tanned face. "Ah, hello, Mignonette," he greeted sheepishly, stubbing out his cigar. "Fancy zees, huh?"

"Captain Bernadette, what happened here?" Seras entered the room, meekly stepping over pieces of former intact targets.

"Eh, I apologize," Pip began, wincing. "I was painting ze targets and I fell off ze ladder… and zey all collapsed." He looked down at his paint-speckled boots.

Seras groaned and slumped her shoulders. "Captain…"

"I know, I know. But look on ze bright side, Mignonette," he allowed a smile to lighten his face. "Not _all_ of zem are broken!"

"You are an idiot, Pip Bernadette." The young vampire strode over to him and hauled up the fallen ladder as easily as if it had been made out of styrofoam. Then she bent over and began picking up the dislodged pieces of wood on the floor, arranging them into a pile in the corner. Pip tried to avert his eyes as she bent over, but he couldn't resist such a lovely view.

Blowing her blonde bangs from her line of view with her bottom lip, Seras straightened up, having removed the broken target fragments from the floor. "We'd better fix this mess up before Integra-sama finds out," she huffed.

The mercenary blanched at how the Hellsing master would react if she discovered her targets to be incapacitated. "Uh yes, zat would be best," he mumbled, lifting himself up with difficulty. His leg throbbed where the ladder had made painful contact, but he ignored it. He'd had much worse.

"You don't have to help me, Mignonette, I can do zees mys—"

"—Haven't I told you enough times to call me Seras?" Sometimes the Frenchman could really grate on her nerves. The fledgling whipped her head balefully around at him, eyes flashing a nocuous crimson. "I am not your 'Mignonette', I am not 'Police Girl', I am not 'Draculina!'" She snapped. "Is it too much to ask for someone to actually address my by my name around here?"

Pip quickly apologized, knowing that he had inadvertently hit a rather sore subject with the police girl. "Sorry…Seras."

The vampire paused in the act of lifting a fallen target, slightly taken aback. True she had chastised Pip on numerous occasions about the topic of her identity, repeatedly requesting that she be called by her true name. But she hadn't expected him to actually do it. Her anger ebbed, replaced by a mixture of confusion and other traces of emotion that Seras couldn't quite place.

"Whatever. Let's just fix these. First let's clean up this spill. After that I'll stand these targets up and you take care of those, then we can paint."

"Rodger that." Pip stood up and limped over to the target closet to retrieve a mop, secretly glad that he didn't have to take care of this mess all by himself. Seras watched him lope as he sloshed the spilled paint around, eyeing his leg.

"Um, did the ladder hurt you, Captain?" She asked, hating the edge of concern that marinated her tone and gave it a tenderer flavor.

Pip blinked his eye and raised his eyebrows. "No, no, zees iz nothing," he paused, eyeing her slyly. "Are you worried about me, my little Mignonette?"

Seras's cheeks darkened, annoyance surfacing. "W-who would worry about _you_, pervert?" She spluttered to cover up her previous gentleness. "You can go break both your legs and I could care less!" A thick silence enveloped the room when she had quieted down.

"Zeriously, you need to loosen up, girl."

-- -- --

After an hour Pip and Seras had mopped the floors and placed most of the targets back into their appropriate positions, gluing the ones that had sustained only minor injuries and discarding the rest. Seras found the work to pass quickly and with ease. Bernadette didn't bother her while they worked, which was surprising for him. Perhaps he didn't want to provoke any more outbursts. Or perhaps he didn't want another flick of her finger to crack his skull open.

Seras began to notice something about Pip as they repaired the targets, something that she didn't even think that he was aware of himself.

The mercenary captain would sing as he worked.

It wasn't loud, just a throaty murmur under his breath—but Seras's hypersensitive, undead ears picked up the sound as clear as day. Sometimes Pip would hum words with his melodies, always in French. The vowels and consonants were warm and rich, the language flowing expertly over his tongue and through his lips in rolling cadences and phrases. The melodies were always different, but each one was unique in and of itself. They were haunting, far from atonal, full of harmonic color and strangely sublime.

Seras could not understand the words, and wasn't sure that she wanted to. Just the sound was enough to satisfy her ears. It was beautiful and gentle, so juxtaposed against the captain's gruff exterior that it made one wonder who he really was inside. He had removed his traditional western hat, and auburn hair hung silkily in his face as he worked. The thick reddish braid was draped around his neck as usual so it wouldn't become cumbersome and in his way. Finally, all of the targets were as good as new (as good as they were going to get, anyway).

"You should put that voice of yours to better use instead of insulting everyone with it," Seras remarked as she hauled two new unspilled buckets of brown paint and large brushes over to the targets.

Pip took a clean brush nonchalantly and surveyed her with one sparkling green eye. Seras also picked up a brush and dipped it into the bucket, standing in front of a faded target next to him and began to paint.

"Hey now, don't be mean. I don't inzult _everyone_," Pip protested innocently, his eye wide. "Only you."

Seras closed her eyes. "Please, Captain. You were so pleasant when we were setting up the targets, don't make me flick you again."

Pip chuckled as he remembered his first encounter with the Draculina. It was his own ignorance that had gotten him owned by a single finger. The captain, with a brush in hand wiped sweat off his brow with his forearm.

"Why won't you call me Pip?" He asked offhandedly, brush swishing up and down the marker in front of him. "You inzist that I call you 'Seras,' yet you won't even address me by _my_ real name eizzur." He drooped his eye shut in a playful wink.

"For a number of reasons," Seras retorted. "One, because you are my superior Captain Bernadette, and two: referring to you by your first name would mean that I've stooped to your level and allowed myself to become subject to your perversion."

Pip was silent for a minute. He squatted down to dip his brush once again before answering.

"Ah, I see." His tone seemed almost thoughtful. "You know anozzer name I can call you by, Mignonette?" An emerald eye glinted impishly.

"What might that be?" Seras stopped her painting and turned to face the mercenary captain, hands of hips.

"Shit-head!" he proclaimed happily and promptly flicked his wet brush at Seras, resulting in a splash of brown paint spattering her hair and face. Pip cackled gleefully as Seras wiped the paint from her eyes in shock, which quickly turned to ire.

"Captain, you…you…" She was drowned out by his merry gales of laughter, which served to only enrage her further.

"See, what did I tell you? Your head iz covered in shit so you must be a shit-head!"

Without thinking Seras scooped her brush into her bucket of paint and whipped the brush at Pip. He stopped laughing as paint entered his mouth, spitting brown. When he had cleared his mouth he smiled a leering grin.

"Oh, you are getting it now, Mignonette," Captain Bernadette said, chuckling good humouredly. "Zis iz war." He discarded the brush and picked up the entire bucket of chocolate-colored paint.

Seras eyed him incredulously. "You wouldn't…" She began.

"Try me," Pip replied smoothly, levering the bucket so that the open top faced the vampire. Seras quickly dropped her brush and lifted her own bucket.

"Just because you are a girl doezn't mean I won't," the captain sniggered. He eyed her bucket watchfully. She was dangerously close to throwing it at him. _Hmm,_ Pip thought. _One more push should do it._

"All of zat paint on you would make your uniform extremely clingy" Pip added, cocking his head. "I wonder zen if I would be able to see your nipples."

That did it. With a hoarse cry Seras hurled her bucket of paint at the Wild Geese captain, dousing him completely in a viscous brown wave…but not before Pip had flung his own bucket at her first. The result was an enormous splatter of paint that completely engulfed the two from head to toe.

The only noise that followed was the steady drips and plops of paint running down their bodies and spattering the floor.

Pip peeled his braid from around his neck, wringing it out distastefully and breaking the silence. "I guess we are both shit-heads now, eh, Mignonette?" He said hesitantly, getting ready to run if necessary.

On any other occasion, Seras Victoria would have relished in pummeling the living crap out of Captain Bernadette. The Draculina was actually about to do just that, but something stopped her.

It was just…

The captain looked so funny covered head to toe in brown paint. Thick trickles ran down his face and clumped his hair together, making him look completely ridiculous. Like a mud man, Seras's subconscious thought. She giggled. A shit man.

That got her laughing. And once the laughter came it didn't stop, only grew. Pip stared as Seras, drenched in paint, doubled over in fits of laughter, pointing at him. It dawned on him then that he had never heard the vampire laugh before. It was a shrill noise, but cheerful and bubbly. It was a pure sound, a childish mirth. Perfect for the Mignonette, Pip mused. And not to mention she looked absolutely adorable when she laughed.

It was not long before his laughter joined hers, mingling amicably and harmoniously together.

"You—you look like ze biggest pile of shit!"

"Look who's talking, goose droppings!"

They stood doubled over, laughing at each other for the longest time. Eventually after they had quieted down some, Pip strode over and wiped some of the brown paint from Seras's face. He rubbed his nose against hers playfully.

"I actually zink you look lovely in brown…Seras Victoria." Sapphire eyes widened. Her full name sounded so lovely with his voice and his accent, enchanting, almost. It was like the songs he sang, only with her name as the words. Seras didn't move.

"I would kiss you know, but we are bot' covered in paint," Pip remarked jokingly. His tone was affectionate. "Can you wait until later, Mignonette?"

The use of her nickname snapped Seras out of her daze. "U-um…" she stammered, thankful that the spread of paint covered up her blush. "I need to get changed," she muttered, heading quickly toward the door.

She would have left too, if it hadn't been for the elderly figure that stood silently in the doorframe, blocking their exit.

-- -- --

"Would you care to tell me," Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing began calmly, biting her cigar, "how two subsidiaries, both who have accomplished the roughest of missions, solved the toughest of cases, and exterminated the most malicious of ghouls, cannot accomplish something as simple as _painting a wooden mannequin?"_

The two figures, still soaked wholly in paint, stared guiltily at the Hellsing head, trying not to drip their sorry selves onto the tiled floor.

"Never mind, I do not even want to know," Integra grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose underneath her glasses. "Just get yourselves cleaned up and out of my site for the remainder of the day."

Pip and Seras gave hurried mumbles of "yes sir" and bolted out of the office. Once clear of Integra's quarters, Pip turned to Seras with a wide grin.

"Mignonette, how about we shower together?"

End.


	3. Finale, part I

**Important Note:** This is a rarity for me, in part induced by my poor sleeping and caffeine intake. In all of my fictions, I always keep the characters true to their nature, very in character. I find it gives the story a more realistic taste. I decided to give my versions of the Hellsing characters a break. This will not happen again. I tried to make them out of character...as in character as possible. Confused? Just read and find out. Surprise ending. xD

_All characters © Hirano Kouta_

* * *

**Sixty Minutes Out of Character**

**Part I**

_One rainy day in England..._

_-_

Alucard raised his eyebrows fractionally at the spectacle before him. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but the vampire was somewhat taken aback by what he saw and heard. Rarely was his master seen not doing hordes of paperwork and files.

"You know, usually one would listen to something more relaxing if they wished to fall asleep," Alucard stated humouredly to his master.

Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing extracted a bitten unlit cigar from between her lips and lowered the volume on her antiquated music player. After doing so she put her glasses back on and returned to her former position, leaning back in her overly-sized office chair with her head tilted tiredly to the side. The warped glass of the sash windows behind her displayed nebulous skies and tenebrous shadowy clouds. It would most likely rain tonight.

"Shostakovich is relaxing," she answered plainly.

The vampire looked at her skeptically. "Forgive me saying so Master, but wouldn't something like Bach or Mozart be better suited for inducing slumber?" The shrill keening of the violins as their notes reached into the stratosphere drifted into Alucard's vampiric, finely tuned ears. The sound was not unpleasant, but far from soothing.

"Symphony number eleven—the Toscin?" He inquired, referring to the movement that was currently playing.

Integra's cerulean blue eyes shimmered admiringly. "I was not aware that you were musically educated, Alucard." He gave a lopsided grin.

"There is always time for music." For once Integra couldn't agree more. It had been ages since she had listened to anything with a pitch besides the blasts of silver-bulleted guns.

"I particularly like the third movement," Alucard murmured absently. "And not just because it is written for the dead of Bloody Sunday, 1905."

Integra yawned, refraining from rubbing her burning eyelids in the presence of her servant. "We could all use a little—"

"_Attention, rezidents of ze Hellsing manor,"_ a loud and familiar voice suddenly boomed out of nowhere, cutting Integra off. She sat bolt up straight in her chair.

"What the hell?" Integra murmured, throwing a glance at Alucard. The vampire looked equally confused, for once.

"_It haz been brought to our awareness zhat from zree o' clock pm until four today will be O.O.C. Hour,'" _the ubiquitous voice continued._ "For zhose of you who do not know, zhat stands for 'out of character.' Whoever iz ze most O.O.C. today gets 25£, or a bottle of Zir Integra's brandy at ze end of ze day. Thank you, zis iz Bernadette, over and out."_

Alucard and Integra blinked, Shostakovich forgotten. It was the Hellsing heir who first spoke, struggling to quell her temper. "Pray tell… who was it that let that idiot captain near the intercom?"

"Come now, Master," Alucard purred in his deep voice. He straightened up. "The real issue here is where you have been keeping the brandy, seeing as I never knew about it."

Integra stared at the vampire dubiously and turned off the classical music, her fatigue forgotten. "Alucard, you cannot be serious. Anyway, I don't know how Captain Bernadette gained access to our intercom system, but with that announcement there is bound to be trouble." She brushed a long lock of blonde hair from her face and frowned. "My men have had nothing to do this month, and no doubt they will grab at _any_ opportunity to ease their boredom."

"Then it's about time you let them, my Master," Alucard said, smiling devilishly.

Integra turned her frosty blue gaze upon her servant. "And your point?"

He snickered. "Why not have a little fun for once? This could get interesting." The ends of his coat billowed out as he turned to leave.

"May I ask where you are going, Alucard?" The vampire's scarlet eyes lit up with a malicious and gleeful mirth.

"Watch me, my Master Integra," he replied artfully. "This will be the first and only opportunity to see your servant act as out of character as inhumanly possible." Alucard snickered darkly and motioned fluidly to the grandfather clock by the door.

"Starting in a quarter of an hour."

Pip strode down the hall, walking with the air of an extremely pleased Frenchman. No doubt the entire estate had heard his little announcement—in fact, some of his men had actually put him up to it, not that he could blame them. Things had been too quiet lately. The Midians were bored shitless, the mercenaries found themselves with more than enough free time on their hands, and the men were tired of it. They almost wished the ghouls and the FREAKS would attack, as it would give them something to do.

The captain sauntered past the training barracks, already seeing some of his men preparing for the so called "O.O.C. Hour." Pip grinned through his cigarette. They were really getting into it.

_This could be fun indeed,_ he thought as he walked past the barracks, brainstorming of how he himself could participate in the sixty minutes of mayhem.

To be continued...


	4. Finale, part II

**Important Note:** This is a rarity for me, in part induced by my poor sleeping and caffeine intake. In all of my fictions, I always keep the characters true to their nature, very in character. I find it gives the story a more realistic taste. I decided to give my versions of the Hellsing characters a break. This will not happen again. I tried to make them out of character...as in character as possible. Confused? Just read and find out. Surprise ending. xD

Here is Part II, a bit longer.

_All characters © Hirano Kouta_

* * *

**Sixty Minutes out of Character**

**Part II**

-

Integra eyed the mahogany grandfather clock in her office suspiciously (and a tad uneasily, if truth be told). It was ten past three, and so far she hadn't heard any screams or sounds of something amiss. Perhaps none of the manor's inhabitants had chosen to heed Bernadette's little game, the Hellsing head thought with a futile relief. Perhaps the captain had not broadcasted his little announcement with a serious intent. However, 25 pounds were at stake, not to mention her brandy. When on earth had the captain discovered her covert brandy stash? No one save Walter was supposed to know about that. Speaking of the butler…

"Walter," Integra snapped a tad brusquely into her own intercom that sat on the desk. "Bring me some tea and aspirin," she told the speaker while massaging her temples. "Please," she added.

"Yes, Sir Integra, right away."

The young Hellsing heir pushed the disconnect button heatedly and closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose. A few moments later her ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps, and soon after the door was rapped softly.

"Come in, Walt—good _Gods_, what are you _wearing?" _Integra blinked at the butler as he stepped into the room. She quickly whisked off her rounded glasses, giving them a hasty polish on her shirt and replacing them just as quickly on her face to be certain her eyes weren't deceiving her.

"What does it look like, my lady?" The aged butler fingered his newly attired jeans and tee-shirt fondly.

"…So…I perceive you are taking part in this juvenile exploit," Integra muttered begrudgingly, struggling for words. Walter bowed in confirmation.

"Master Pip was so generous as to lend me his wardrobe for an hour," he answered with an air of satisfaction. "I daresay these clothes make me feel oddly young, not to mention I look rather dashing," Walter added as he adjusted his monocle.

"Just leave the tea and get out of my sight," Integra groaned, refusing to believe her eyes and ears. "The next time I see you I want you to be properly clad, do you understand, Walter?"

The gaunt butler's smile caused his eyes to crinkle into humored slits. "As you wish, Sir Integra. I know you well enough to know that you are staunchly opposed to any form of fun, but do try to loosen up. You should try this; it is quite entertaining."

"Walter!"

"Good day, Sir Integra." And with that said the butler bowed and removed his jeans-and-tee-shirt-donned self from her office. Integra sighed in the silence left in his wake. This was going to be a long hour indeed.

Perhaps leaving her office had not been the most intelligent idea to enter her brain that day. However, Integra Hellsing felt the need to stomp out any signs of trouble that she felt were brewing. It was her household, her estate, and by god she would have order at all times.

Her intentions of leaving the confinements of her office had nothing to do with feelings of curiosity, she reminded herself hastily. Integra was by no means interested in what unspeakable actions her subordinates were up to…so why did she need to keep reminding herself of this fact?

She had already come across some members of the Wild Geese roaming the halls, and all hopes she had harbored of them not taking Captain Bernadette's broadcast seriously were lost when she witnessed their behavior. Some of the new recruits, who she had never seen disobey an order once were randomly shooting up the barracks and happily flouting every regulation seemingly possible.

Integra had thought it couldn't get any worse when she ran into the captain himself. She foresaw murder by her hand in the near future.

"Oh, S-Sir, pleaze forgive me!" A cigarette-less Pip Bernadette whimpered when he saw an ireful Integra approaching him from down the hall. She stopped in surprise and frowned at him.

"Mr. Bernadette? Is something the matter?" Integra scrutinized him through rounded spectacles, thinking that the mercenary was in pain, her anger temporarily abandoned.

"Sir, don't hurt me!" Pip stuck out his bottom lip, quivering it the slightest bit and opening his green eye wide. "I only wanted zome fun, but I'm afraid of what you'll do to me now…" he sat down against the wall and curled his knees up to his chest.

Integra was now thoroughly confused. Why was Bernadette acting like a complete pussy? Where was his ostentatious demeanor, his cocky Frenchman's aura?

"Oh my, what is it we have here?" Integra's head snapped up at the sound of the feminine voice.

"Seras, thank god," Integra sighed internally at the sight of the only other being in the estate who didn't harbor a Y chromosome. _She_ at least would have some maturity, unlike the males of Hellsing.

"Everyone seems to be acting like complete morons—Seras?" Integra's eyebrows shot up. "What are you doing?" The Draculina had walked past the head, approaching the sniveling man crouched on the carpet.

"Oh, Pip," the blonde vampire sighed dramatically, stroking the mercenary's soft auburn hair. "My poor baby." Seras slinked an arm over Pip's shoulder slowly and pressed her breasts into his back.

"Do you want me to make you feel better?" She whispered lowly into his ear, tilting her head to brush her lips against the captain's tanned cheek. The Police Girl poked the tip of her tongue out to lick his jaw line seductively and ran her free hand over the muscles under Pip's shirt. Integra was speechless.

Pip rolled his eyes and pushed Seras away. "Nah, I'm good, girlie," he told the blonde without so much as a bat of the eye. "Well, better get zomezing to eat," he said, standing up, "zhat iz, if the lady lets me." The captain slinked off.

Seras. Hitting on Pip. Probably something the perverted Frenchman had been fantasizing about for ages. Now that his dream had finally came true he was…_ignoring it?_

Hell had frozen over, Integra surmised.

It was a while before the fraulein could manage to squeeze words out of her mouth. "N-not you too, Seras?"

The young vampire shrugged offhandedly. "I was hoping to use the 25£ to buy a new pair of boots," she told Integra sheepishly before running off to avoid whatever scolding her master's master would throw at her. "I'm going to drink all my blood now, see you later!"

Integra was left standing in the middle of the corridor with a hand pressed to her forehead. If this was a nightmare, it was by far the worst one she had ever had.

_I need more tea, I think. And a really good cigar._ So Integra Hellsing slowly walked back to her office, trying to forget what she had seen. A woman could only take so much in one day. She sighed. The only thing bothering her was the absence of her troublesome nosferatu. _That_ vampire would undoubtedly be up to something, and Integra doubted that it was anything charitable.

She fanned her long blonde hair away from her shoulders so it fell cascading down her back as she collapsed into her office chair. If she remained here for the next (Integra threw a glance at the clock) thirty-five minutes, no one should dare come and disturb her.

Yes, that was best, she thought as she lit a fresh cigar, placing it comfortably between her lips. Let those idiots have their fun—she would have no part in such immature pursuits. The smoke felt wonderful as she inhaled, and did well to calm Integra's nerves. She suppressed a yawn. How long had it been since she had last slept more than four hours a night? She really should take Walter's advice and start retiring at an earlier hour.

Integra didn't even bother popping in the Shostakovich CD or removing her glasses; she simply tilted her head back in her chair and closed her eyes, letting the soft drum of the rain on her window that had begun to fall carry her away…

Unfortunately her sleep did not last very long. Integra squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to sink back into the world of dreams, to no avail. She glanced blearily at the grandfather clock that stood by the door. Only 3:45? Oh, why had she not slept past four?

The answer became clear almost immediately. A fusillade of footsteps and loud thumps could be heard around this wing of the mansion. Integra swiftly rubbed any vestiges of drowsiness from her eyes and sat bolt upright. It sounded as if someone or a few someone's were running, and she felt a plummeting feeling as she realized that the sounds were steadily approaching her office.

"No, Alucard, I wouldn't do it!" Came Walter's muffled voice from down the hall.

"Go for it, Master!" That sounded like Seras. Integra felt her heart beat a few metronome ticks quicker. What was that blasted Count up to? It would seem that she would soon discover the answer.

The door to her study flew open. "My Master!" Alucard stated in a voice that was far too cheery for the sadistic vampire. He had abandoned his scarlet trench coat, glasses, and hat, having smoothed back his ink-black hair.

"Alucard," Integra addressed him suspiciously.

He glided into the room, followed by the nervous glances of Pip, Seras, and Walter. "Master, I found the cutest thing outside. I couldn't stand its cuteness so I brought it in," Alucard stated calmly in his deep voice.

Integra's bottom eyelid gave a jitter. She'd never imagined that four-letter word being capable of escaping the deadly vampire's lips. Cute? It sounded so…_wrong_ coming from Alucard.

Integra decided then to play along with her servant's little game. If she could control her temper. "Oh?" She inquired. The others looked up. "What is it?"

"A kitty-cat!" Alucard half-sang, holding up a mortified looking cat which he had been concealing from his master's view with his shadows.

"My master, can I name her? Can I?" Alucard, the No Life King brought the tawny tabby to his pale face and snuggled his nose in the kitten's fur.

"Aren't you an adorable kitty-witty?" He cooed, his gleaming white eyeteeth visible in his smile. "Yes, who's your daddy-waddy, who's your master?"

Integra's cigar fell from her mouth and the tip crumbled on contact with the ashtray that lay on her desk.

"I thought you were _my_ master," Seras stated with fatuous grumpiness, also playing along with the vampire's charade, "Alucard."

Alucard turned to Seras, holding up the kitten, who looked positively petrified. "But how can you resist these widdle puddy eyes, Police Girl?" He asked innocently. The elder vampire turned and walked towards Integra, who was frozen in place at her desk.

"So, Master?" He asked as he set the kitten down on the tiled floor in front of Integra's desk. Alucard came closer still, uncomfortably so, his ruby eyes burning into her shiny icy blue ones.

"Can I keep her? Please?" Integra blinked, unable to answer. Damn it if he wasn't using hypnosis on her.

After a moment Alucard chuckled slyly. "I know I am forbidden to use my hypnosis on you as a form of persuasion, Master," he began in a low murmur, leaning in. "But, how about another method of coercion?"

And before Integra knew what was happening Alucard had inclined his head and brushed his lips against hers. He kissed her lightly, lips cold and soft against her warm ones. Integra couldn't move.

It seemed like an eternity before Alucard broke away, harboring a grin that stretched to his ears and beyond. Integra was still stationary at her desk, unsure of what to do. She felt a tinge of redness blossom on her cheeks, and cast her eyes elsewhere. They fell on the trio at the door, and that was enough to snap the Hellsing heir out of her stupor.

Walter had a gloved hand pressed lightly to his mouth to hide a smile, his dark eyes twinkling wordlessly. Pip was sniggering with is hands around his middle to keep the laughter from escaping, and Seras's face was contorting with the blatantly obvious attempt to keep from smiling. She was biting her lips with her small fangs to prevent them from turning up. That did it.

Integra Hellsing slammed her palm against the desk with a resonant smack. "Fine!" She snapped, throwing her incensed gaze on the people in her office. Her chair made a thump as she stood up animatedly. "If you fools want to see me out of character, so be it! Maybe then you will leave me the bloody hell alone!"

The two vampires and two humans didn't utter a word as Integra stormed past them and out of the office, heading somewhere unknown.

"Ah, Inte—"

"—Seras!" Alucard cut her off with a flick of his hand. The fledgling, Pip, and Walter looked at him curiously. The tall vampire's smile would have made the devil himself quake in his boots.

"Give her ten minutes," he smiled furtively. "Then we follow."

The others began to smile too.

Integra slammed the door to her bedroom quarters, seething. The gall that vampire had, to actually _kiss_ her. Her, Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. No one took advantage of her like that and lived to tell the tale. Although…

She could still feel the coolness on her lips.

Integra brushed away the thought forcefully. Now, what to do? Her subordinates would undeniably find her again and bombard her with their inanity. She huffed an exasperated breath and opened her closed wardrobe.

This was regrettable, but if it was what it took to get everyone off her back, Integra would do it. Without fail.

Alucard led the mercenary, butler, and servant behind him as he crept closer to Integra's master bedroom. He unnecessarily pressed a white gloved finger to his lips. They quickened their pace, seeing as there was now only five minutes remaining of the "O.O.C. Hour." The three arrived at the closed door of the bedroom, and Alucard's grin widened even more, if possible.

"My Master, you cannot escape," he boomed menacingly, straightening up. There was no answer from the other side of the door. Alucard grabbed the handle, expecting to have to destroy the lock, but strangely found the bedroom door unlocked.

He swung the door open, sliding into the room of his master with Pip, Seras, and Walter flagging him.

"Can I help you?" Integra asked in a sweet voice, turning around with hands on her hips.

Pip felt a trickle of blood run inadvertently from his nostril and down his lip.

Integra had removed her glasses and tied her long, fair hair up in a thick ponytail. She smiled at them through lipstick-ed lips, batting her eyelashes flittingly. Walter did not even want to know where his lady had acquired such a short skirt. But he noticed then…Integra-sama had wonderful legs.

"Sir?" Seras stammered. Integra was wearing a form-fitting blouse that was…

No, it couldn't be…

Pink.

The Hellsing head fluffed her hair. "Oh my, do I look alright?" She asked in a falsely sweet voice. "Is my makeup smudged? I'll have to do it again if it is!"

Even Alucard was at a loss for words. Something that had not happened in over four hundred years. He simply stared.

"Ahm…" Pip was the first to break the thick silence. "I zink Sir Integra wins ze contest."

"Amen."

Integra Hellsing's eyes snapped open and she gave a little jerk in her chair. Her heart pulsed quickly in her throat, adrenaline running through Integra's system like the liquid in an overflowing cup. Her blonde locks were plastered to her head in beads of slick sweat and she sat up, struggling to control her heavy breathing.

Her eyes darted around her study, which was dark due to the thunderclouds outside and the rain continuously falling from the sky. Integra's gaze then drifted onto herself in alarm. She breathed a shaky sigh of relief when she saw that she was clad in her usual charcoal colored suit, complete with its buttons and Victorian-style tie.

A bass chortle cut into the silence there. Integra looked up sharply to find Alucard leaning against the wall by her desk in the shadows, arms folded.

"Alucard?" Her voice sounded young then, with a girlish uncertainty that Integra scolded herself for. It made her sound weak.

"It seems like you were having quite the dream, Master," Alucard rumbled, lips twitching up in an amused smirk. "And I thought I was a restless sleeper. I can see why you don't do it often."

Integra frowned. "What happened, Alucard? If I had fallen asleep you should have woken me."

"We were talking about Shostakovich," the count recalled, "and you suddenly conked out. It was rather amusing."

"Why did you not wake me? I have work to do," she gestured at the pile of papers on her desk.

"Oh?" The vampire leered at her. "What work?"

"What are you talking about—"Integra looked down. She was gesturing to an empty desk. All of her papers were absent from their usual place.

Alucard took a step closer. "Walter is taking care of the remainder of your files."

Integra sighed. It was just as well; she really couldn't bring herself to do paperwork now. Especially with the remnants of that horrid dream still playing about in her head.

"Alucard…"

"What is it, my Master Integra?"

"Did you…" Integra cleared her throat noisily, not believing that she was asking this, "happen to find a… kitten today?"

"A kitten, Master?" A single black eyebrow elevated.

"Forget it," Integra closed her eyes. Her vampire servant laughed quietly.

"Checking reality, I presume," he speculated cleverly. "Quite common for humans to do after a particularly disturbing dream. May I ask what it was about, Master?"

Integra's face took on a rosy hue. "No you may not, Alucard!" She snapped, standing up. "You may remain here if you like, but I am leaving now."

With that said she stormed out of her office, not even bothering to light herself a cigar. The sound of her servant's laughter rung in her ears as she left.

On her way down the hall, Integra encountered none other that Captain Bernadette, him nibbling on a snack with his hair tied back.

"Oh, _bonjour_, Lady Integra!" He said happily. Integra nodded curtly.

"Fancy zis rain huh? There's not much my men can do, zince we were supposed to do field training today," Pip went on.

Integra's eyes flashed and she quickly grabbed the Frenchman by the scruff of his collar. His single eye widened.

"A-ah, Sir? What are you—"

"You had better find something productive to do then, Captain," Integra told him lowly. "If I catch you anywhere _near_ the intercom, or any place else off-limits for that matter, I will personally see to it that Alucard fill all your beds with live centipedes tonight."

Pip gave her a puzzled stare, but knew better than to question the master, especially when she was pissed off. "Yez, Sir," he answered meekly.

Integra released the front of Pip's shirt and wordlessly marched away. The captain stared after her, smoothing out his shirt.

"Ze intercom?" He muttered to himself. Where had she gotten that idea from?

Although…Pip suddenly grinned. That wasn't such a bad idea.

Maybe he could have a little fun after all.

_End._


End file.
